Not Your Pawn: A Dark Bully High School Romance (Roman Academy Rules Book 2)

by L V Chase

“I just don’t understand,” Damian says. “It’s a man screaming. It’s not even painted well.”

  “It’s relatable,” Jay says. “Especially for me, here, now, while you’re disparaging Edvard Munch.”

  I watch them, mystified with how they’ve managed to tolerate each other for the last two weeks. Damian might be able to afford an Audi and filet mignon, but he’s still a kid that grew up eating cereal for dinner. The most he knows about modern art is that Andy Warhol was fascinated by soup cans. Jay, on the other hand, grew up in a family where studying art history was a prerequisite to being considered part of the elite.

  My phone vibrates on my lap. I’ve kept it there because it kept rattling on the table with my mother’s texts and calls, and the looks from the boys had changed from curious to concerned. Pity has always felt like an insult dressed in its Sunday’s best. After the month I’ve had, I’m not eager to be disparaged.

  I flip my phone over, the texts showing as notifications.

  Mom: your phone better be broken.

  Mom: don’t be a bitch.

  Damian leans back in his chair, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Edward Munch—"

  “Edvard,” Jay corrects.

  “Mr. Munch,” Damian continues. “Could have painted a more realistic screaming man. Maybe for my experiment for AP Psych, I should see how many people relate to the painting, and how many people relate to a photo of me screaming. What do you think, Cin?”

  I blink, looking up at him. “Sure?”

  He raises an eyebrow, sitting up again. “Are you okay? You’ve been distracted all day. Did something happen?”

  I shake my head. “No, everything’s fine.”

  His eyes narrow in disbelief, but he quickly bursts back into a smile. “I’m glad. You’ve had a rough school year already.”

  “Were you expecting something bad to happen to me today?” I ask.

  He laughs. “Come on, Cin, You don’t need to always be looking for a fight. Just because I asked how you are doesn’t mean that I’m pitying you. I’m expressing concern because I like you.”

  He knows me so well. A year ago, I’d have dug a hole to China if it meant I knew he’d accept my apology for his arrest. Now, he’s forgiven me, but the emotions I’d felt towards him feel flimsy now. Maybe I’d still dig a hole to China to show my shame over what happened, but it would be more about me than him.

  To avoid his eyes, I glance over at Jay. He’s staring at my and Damian’s hands. Damian’s hand has moved closer to mine, so there’s only a couple of inches between them. Jay’s face is reminiscent of Picasso’s paintings during his Blue Period—desolate with a tint of helplessness. Maybe he knew I could never fall for him because of Grayson, but now he sees me with Damian. While I gripe about pity, he’s sinking down into something worse.

  “I’m going to go,” he says, standing up abruptly. “I have a few ideas of where to draw the cityscape from. It seems like the kind of thing the judges would like.”

  He walks quickly, moving around the two of us without looking at either of us. I should say something, but I watch him leave without saying anything.

  Damian turns his chair, our knees bumping against each other. “Jay is cool, but I’m glad we have a second alone. Our time together has been rushed and chaotic, but it’s the best I’ve felt in a long time.”

  He reaches towards me, taking my hand. His hand is oddly cold.

  “I’ve missed you,” he admits. “Do you want to know the truth?”

  “In general, yeah,” I say.

  “I came here because of you,” he says. “I was doing some research into Roman Academy, and I saw the list of scholarship students. If your first name wasn’t Cinnamon, I would have thought my mind was playing tricks on me.”

  “Your brother’s newspaper is researching this school?” I ask. “Why?”

  He shrugs. “Just the usual. Tax evasion. Corruption. Campus sexual assault. Uh, I feel like you missed the point.”

  “No, I understand. I’m glad you did it.”

  He’s laced our fingers together. It should feel romantic. I should want this.

  He removes one of his hands and cups my cheek. He leans forward. His eyes are closed.

  I turn away. His mouth touches the corner of my lips. As he starts to pull away, the door whips open.

  My mother stands in the doorway, her mouth pinched together and her eyes narrowed.

  “What the hell?” she snaps. “I’ve been texting you.”

  I stand up quickly. I subconsciously wipe the corner of my mouth.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask my mother. “How did you know where I was?”

  “I asked around,” she says. “Everybody here seems to know who you are. And they don’t like you.”

  Damian slowly stands up. His hand touches my upper arm.

  “I need to stop by my room before class,” he says. “I’ll see you later.”

  He gives a polite nod toward my mother. She smiles back at him, her eyes zoning in on him like a hawk spotting a baby rabbit. As soon as he’s behind her, his lip curls up in a snarl.

  I’ve never seen him possessed by so much animosity, but I can’t deny that she deserves it. He quietly leaves, carefully shutting the door behind him.

  “Who was he?” my mother asks. “He looks well-off. And affectionate towards you.”

  I bite back the bitterness broiling in the back of my throat. “It’s just a friend of a friend.”

  She shakes her head. “Whatever. We’ve got bigger fish to fry. Grayson Voss is our Moby Dick—unless his father suddenly becomes available. You know how much that man is worth?”

  “Sixteen billion dollars. You just texted that to me a couple of hours ago. And a few days before that, you texted it to me at three in the morning. I thought you were gold-digging in your sleep.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to ignore your slander and the fact that you never respond to my texts because I’m an understanding mother. I mean, really, Cinnamon, is it so bad that a mother is trying to bond with her daughter?”

  I tap my fingers against the art table. “Mom, it’s just useless. Grayson isn’t into me. He could have any girl on campus.”

  “I’ve given you all of the best tactics to get a man like that! You don’t have to be that smart or that pretty to get one. First, you get their attention with praise, then you hook them by having their cock down your throat and a hyperactive tongue.”

  I let out a heavy exhale. “Mom—"

  “Cinnamon, I’m getting older. Soon, I won’t be able to pass myself off as under thirty. I’ve been twenty-eight for six or seven years. I’m not going to be able to pull it off much longer. You have less than two years where you have the most worth. You need to hook a man now and marry before you turn twenty. Make sure there’s no prenup. It’s our retirement plan, Cin. It’s all we have. You can’t let this opportunity go.”

  “Mom,” I repeat. “I’m not going to do it. I’m not a gold digger. You might think I can’t make it on my own, but you also think that the moon is a projection created by NASA. I’m sorry. It’s not how I want to live my life.”

  She stares at me for several seconds before folding her arms over her chest and shaking her head. “I used to think the same thing. I went on the right path. I kept you, despite knowing that you’d kill my chances of marrying rich. And here I am, forced to beg you to help me while your ungrateful ass refuses. One day, when you’re alone, you’ll look back and realize that sixteen billion is worth a lot more than your useless pride.”

  She spins around, whipping the door open. When she walks out, slamming the door shut, I sit back down. I won’t have to wait one day to look around and see that I’m alone. I already am.

  10

  Grayson

  When I step back into the villa, I hear someone laughing. A girl from the sound of it. I recognize Eric's lower voice, too. I head to the common room to see what Eric's up to.

  He's bent over the black coffee table,
making a snorting sound. He whips his head up and grins when he spots me. There's a trail of white powder on the table's polished surface, the same powder that Eric's wiping off from his nostrils.

  "Decent shit," Eric says with a nod.

  I raise an eyebrow. It's the middle of the day, too early for Eric to be getting wasted. I glance over at the girl next to him. She's thin, almost pretty. Her hair's platinum blonde, obviously dyed. Despite being nearly autumn, she's wearing a skimpy lavender summer dress cut low to show off her body. She's not wearing a bra.

  If I had been drunk or coked out, I might have mistaken her for someone younger. But no amount of makeup can hide the age in her hands and wrists. Her eyes are too old, too dead to belong to a student. I've spent too much time around at Dad's social events not to recognize the sight of an older woman who refuses to let go of her faded youth.

  "You must be Grayson. I recognize you from the magazine articles." She picks up a clear bottle of vodka. "Drink?"

  "Sure," Eric hands over a shot glass.

  I take the glass from him. "Who's this?"

  Eric shrugs. "Don't know. Don't care." He looks past me. "Hey, how much more of that coke you bring?"

  The woman giggles. "Oh, I've got plenty."

  She pulls up her skirt, not looking the least bit embarrassed, as she slips a hand under the waistband of her white panties. She pulls something. A baggie.

  For a second, I wonder if she's a plant from Damian or his brother. I mean, no one's supposed to give a damn even if there a kilo of coke found at our villa, but things have been strange lately. Dad's on edge, and I can't ignore that.

  I grab the woman's hand before she can give the baggie to Eric. I place the shot glass from before under her hand.

  "Drop it," I tell her. "In here."

  "It's just—" she starts.

  "Drop it." I shake her hand, hard, and she drops the baggie into the shot glass. I step across the room and drop the shot glass into a waste basket. Eric's watching me, his eyes slightly unfocused.

  "Gray, chill," Eric says. "We're just having a good time."

  "No, we're not." I point to the leftover powder on the table. "Clean that shit up. Take the trash and dump it somewhere else on campus."

  "Why?" Eric asks. "It doesn't matter."

  I stare at him. "Did you know that Damian's with Writing on the Wall?"

  Eric stares back in confusion. "What?"

  "The assholes coming after me and my dad." Eric tries to say something, but I cut him off with a shake of my head. I don't want to talk about it, not with this strange woman here. "Look. There's too much shit going on these days. Keep things clean. Don't bring trouble back here."

  "I'm hardly here to cause trouble," the woman says. "The opposite, really—"

  "So, who the fuck are you?" I walk over to her, arms crossed.

  "Relax, Grayson…" She reaches out to touch my arm, but I take a half-step backwards to avoid her.

  "Answer the fucking question. You have three seconds before I drop kick your bony ass out of here."

  Her mouth opens wide in surprise, but she recovers and smiles. "You noticed my ass?"

  "One."

  "This should be good," Eric says.

  "Not now." I scowl at Eric before turning back to the woman. "Two."

  She raises a hand in a hurry. "Okay, okay. I'm Katherine, but you can call me Kat."

  "Katherine?"

  She doesn't say anything else, just smiles like she thinks she's won something and bobs her head slightly. God, she's an annoying bitch. I grab her by the arm and drag her two feet towards the doorway before she yelps.

  "I'm Cinnamon's mother!" she cries out.

  I let go of her. "Cin's mother?"

  "Cin's mom?" Eric echoes.

  I can practically hear him salivating. Fuck, no. That's so messed up.

  "Yes, that's right," Kat says. "Whatever you see in her, you could say she got it from me."

  Kat gestures towards herself, like I'm supposed to check her out. For a moment, I do. I can see the similarity in the face now, and their bodies have roughly the same build. But what the fuck is she doing here? She's been nothing but a bitch to Cin from what I can tell. A giant pain in the ass.

  I frown. "What are you doing here?"

  She smiles blankly at me for another few seconds, like she can't possibly imagine that she might not be welcome here.

  "I...I'm here to see you of course—"

  "I'm not interested. Bye." I point to the door.

  Kat finally loses her composure briefly. She blinks, then smiles her irritating smile again. "And to talk about Cinnamon."

  Kat holds her hands together like she's pleased with herself. I stare at her in silence. I don't have anything to talk about with Cin's mother, or with anyone else for that matter. Who the fuck does she think she is, barging in here like this?

  "Oh, don't be like that," Kat laughs. "We have so much to talk about." She catches my eye, then smirks. "So how far have you two gotten? There's no way a healthy boy like you could resist her. She has a pretty fuckable body, doesn't she?"

  Eric laughs. I don't know what to make of Cin's mom. She might actually be crazy. Or just a massive bitch. Either way, I'm not talking about Cin in front of Eric.

  "Look, what do you want?" I reply.

  "We're all friends here, aren't we?" Kat glances over at Eric and smiles. "I just want to talk about my daughter."

  "Oh, please do," Eric says. "So, Gray. About that fuckable body. What's going on between you two these days, anyways?"

  Kat turns her attention to Eric. "Something happen between them? Something the matter?"

  Eric shrugs but stays silent when I shake my head at him. Kat looks from Eric to me.

  "We could talk about it in private," Kay says. "If there's an issue, maybe I could help. A mother knows best, right?"

  I don't like talking about Cin with others. I don't want my Cin business spilling out where I can't control it. Eric's my buddy, but I have to admit, things aren't quite what they used to be between us. I have to be careful, especially where Cin's concerned. For a moment, I wonder whether he's in bed with Damian. Eric met him before I did. He didn't get bought off, did he?

  Shit. I won't turn into Dad. I won't become a whining, paranoid bitch. But Cin deserves better than to have her dirty laundry aired in front of the world. At least, not unless I decide it should be.

  I nod to Kat. "Fine. We'll talk in my room."

  I beckon for her to follow me as I head to my room. Eric lingers in the common room, but I snap my fingers and point at the trash with the coke baggie. Eric sighs and moves towards it.

  When I reach my room, Kat pushes past me into the room first.

  She laughs. "I feel young. Sneaking into boys' rooms again like I'm a teenager."

  I've barely shut the door when Kat draws close to me. She reaches over to lock the door.

  "You can leave that—" I start telling her, but then she's slipped her dress off her shoulders in one quick motion. She's pressing her body against me, her hands tugging on my pants. Then, she jumps onto me, wrapping her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. Her mouth meets mine, her slimy tongue trying to push forward.

  I throw her. She shrieks as her body sails through the air, but she lands on my bed. I hope Eric doesn't get any ideas about what's going in here.

  "The fuck was that?" I ask her. "What's wrong with you?"

  I'd be disgusted even if she wasn't Cin's mother. She's twice my age and acting like a slutty teenage girl. I shake my head. She's crazy.

  I bend over, grab her dress, and throw it on top of her. "Put that back on and get the fuck out of here."

  For once, she's not smiling. Her face is red, her brows furrowed. She's mad? Jesus.

  "No, what's wrong with you?" she snaps back. "Can't you see what you're missing out on?" She gestures towards her topless body.

  "Put your fucking clothes on," I say in a quiet, cold voice.

  Kat's mouth opens, then cl
oses again. She hurries to put on her dress. She stands in front of me afterwards. She's searching my face. I don't know what she's looking for, but I sure as hell hope she doesn't find it.

  "I can help with Cinnamon," Kat says. "I know how stubborn she can be sometimes."

  "Help with her?" I ask. "Somehow, I doubt you can."

  Kat brightens at that. "Then, you do need help."

  "No."

  "Look. I'm the one person who she'll listen. The one person who knows how she thinks."

  I don't say anything. Maybe I could use her. Get her to tell Cin to stay about of trouble. But...no. I don't think so. Kat is fucking crazy.

  She must take my silence for approval, because she steps closer and reaches for me again. I avoid her.

  "I can help," Kat says. "I can get her to do anything you want. I promise. You just have to pay my price."

  "Your price?"

  "Yes, my price. I—"

  I laugh. "You're stuck in your own world. No one wants you. Get the fuck out of here."

  Kat stares at me in shock. Then, her face contorts with anger.

  "Asshole," Kat snarls. "I gave you a chance. Don't come crying back to me when you regret it."

  Like I said. She's fucking crazy. I walk over to the door and open it.

  "Go, or you're the one that's going to be crying."

  Kat scowls at me. Her eyes dart around the room. Is she looking for a weapon? The hell? I tense, ready to fend off a crazed attack. But Kat sniffs, then walks out, not looking at me anymore. I follow her from behind, making sure she leaves the villa. Eric's gone, too. Getting rid of the coke, I hope.

  I don't know if Cin's run into her mother yet. Even though things are bumpy, I think she'd appreciate a warning. I reach for my phone, but I freeze when my hand finds an empty pocket.

  Shit.

  I run back to my room. My phone's nowhere. I was positive I had left the phone in my pocket...fuck. Cin's mother. Kat. It had to be her, when she was groping me.

  She tricked me.

  I run outside, but I don't see Kat anywhere. I'm positive now that I had my phone with me until running into Kat. Damn it. I spend the next half-hour finding a spare phone and trying to get in touch with the carrier to disable my old phone.